“How, love and addiction can have similar strains – of attachment.”

Like all great stories it started with a kiss and ended with a long and slow goodbye that went silent – in the end.

What ever I want from this day on, I have to let it go.

When she holds me close to her chest – her heart speaks to me.

Our darkest days were probably infused by the patterns we once needed to protect ourselves. – burden.

As long as we keep on reminding ourselves how far we have come. – We’ll be okay.

She knew exactly where she needed to be.

These stones In her pockets, the dime of her – compassion.

The intimate conversation adores her. – sincere.

When she shines, she shines bright. Radiant I suppose. Kind for kindness, she lights up to be seen.

She knew exactly where she needed to be.

When she holds me close to her chest – her heart speaks to me.

Even her smallest steps are a part of something – tremendous.

Lets walk along side the rain and try not to look for shelter this time.

What if we are all here to complement one another. – Kind.

Wishing, if only she’d care – less.

She pushes buttons to her own securities. – a fair tale.

I was not addicted to stealing in my youth, nor have ever been; yet such was the confidence of the Negroes in the neighborhood, even at this early period of my life, in my superior judgment, that they would often carry me with them when they were going on any roguery, to plan for them.

Pain and loneliness can be addictive, but there can also be strength in embracing it.

Until I went to rehab, I didn’t understand what it did.

I’m addicted to self-improvement. The thing is, there’s so damn much about myself to improve.

Discoveries are made by gluttons and addicts. The man who forgets to eat and sleep has an appetite for fact, for interrelations among causes.

The First Amendment was specifically designed for citizens to insult politicians. Libel laws were written to protect law students speaking out on political issues from getting called whores by Oxycontin addicts.

I mean, the sound of an amplified guitar in a room full of people was so hypnotic and addictive to me, that I could cross any kind of border to get on there.

I train about four or five times a week. I guess I am addicted to it. I also do a lot of martial arts. More than I have done in awhile. I like to go back to martial arts because it makes me feel good.